


Most Bitter Night

by I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode II: Attack of the Clones, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Emotional Manipulation, M/M, Seduction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-17 06:59:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11846364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning/pseuds/I_Gave_You_Fair_Warning
Summary: Hearts aren't things to torment for fun.





	Most Bitter Night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Thymesis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thymesis/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Sweetest Days](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11553531) by [Thymesis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thymesis/pseuds/Thymesis). 



> While reading the lovely Caudipteryx's “The Sweetest Days” there is a sequence where Old Ben reveals an old pain as he explains that teenage boys do not sleep with aging whores unless there is a dare. There are abused pillows involved. It brought the brain sparkles out in force.
> 
> Anakin is an adult before anything of a sexual nature takes place.

 

Anakin was sixteen when he first tried to kiss his master.

Obi-Wan had been startled, frightened, baffled, embarrassed, horrified.

He began second-guessing himself— every hug, every smile, every pat on the shoulder.  _ Did I accidentally lead him on? _

Dear Force, had he harmed his Padawan?

“No, Anakin.”

“Why?” Anakin muttered, an intent gleam in his eyes that Obi-Wan had never seen before, but knew  _ instantly  _ what it meant just the same.

“Because you are not of the age of consent,” Obi-Wan replied desperately, terrified of what this meant.  _ Will I have to give him to someone else to train? Will it harm him for me to keep him now that I know he has this...  _ this _? Sweet Force, what do I do? _

Anakin edged towards him again, staring at his lips. “I'm grown,” he asserted, trying to keep his voice from cracking.

Obi-Wan winced. “It's not about that. It's about statutory rape. Now go to bed, and I don't want to hear any more about this.”  
“What if I love you?” Anakin whispered, eyes suddenly large and vulnerable, fear and dread of being mocked flooding the Force.

_ Kark. _

“I don't want to hear any more about this until you're an adult,” Obi-Wan amended. “If you still feel that way then, you can speak again. Otherwise, we'll just pretend this never happened.”

He knew better, even as he said it. There was no way he could forget this, and he knew Anakin would not be able to either.

_ And I will never be able to be so free with my affection as I was before. _

It saddened him, deeply.

He missed his Padawan already.

 

* * *

 

Nearly a year later, the ache in his heart had become normal, and the physical distance he was careful to keep with his Padawan began to feel natural.

But something worse was happening.

Late at night, trying desperately to sleep, Anakin's yearning voice would echo in his mind.  _ “What if I loved you?” _

Did he?

_How wrong is it, that his first love would not be someone who could reciprocate? Someone his own age? Someone he could explore with?_ _Qui-Gon, where did I go wrong?_

 

* * *

 

It had been three years.

Anakin would be nearing knighthood if he could just manage to  _ follow directions  _ and work as part of a team. He didn't seem to understand that in order to be a good  _ leader,  _ one had to understand what it felt like to  _ follow  _ orders. That those following could only trust in a leader if he himself knew what it was to walk in their shoes.

But Anakin Skywalker always thought himself too good to listen to other people's advice. He was too smart. Too fast. Too strong. Too clever. Too powerful.

It was a glaring character flaw, and if he would just find some humility, he would be  _ knighted already... _

As it was, he resented his “withheld” knighting, he complained loudly about it...

And between that, and the barely-covert lustful glances sent Obi-Wan's way, Obi-Wan was about ready to crawl into a tiny cave and never come back out.

Two years of worshipful glances were having an adverse affect on Obi-Wan, he promised himself.  _ It's just that. Anyone would start feeling arrogant at that point. _

But he was beginning to fear it wasn't just arrogance.

_ Please. He stokes my ego. Feeling desirable means feeling powerful, and next to a power like his, who  _ wouldn't  _ want to claim whatever tiny scraps of power one could? It's something I'm likely to be susceptible to, and so to watch. I have the power the Force granted me. It is enough. And I will be able to help people and save lives with it. It's not a competition. _

But another year dragged by.

Obi-Wan's heart was beginning to flutter madly when Anakin looked him in the eye, and he could no longer keep lying to himself.

_ I've fallen for my Padawan. _

He'd been  _ so  _ grateful that Anakin didn't approach him on his eighteenth birthday, so relieved—

But as the nineteenth birthday came and went, Obi-Wan began to find himself lying awake at night wondering if Anakin would ever speak of it again.

_ Maybe I'm inventing all of his lingering looks, his innuendo. Perhaps I'm  _ trying  _ to see something, so I'm making it all up. _

But... it seemed  _ very  _ obvious...

_ If he wanted you, he would say something. He's not saying anything. He's not interested, Kenobi. _

The thought panged his heart to the point where his eyes burned.

_ You just have to hold out until he's knighted, and then you can request a solitary mission very far away from him. Clear your head. _

 

* * *

 

It seemed like an ordinary evening.

Obi-Wan, expecting Anakin would eat out as was his custom, shuffled through the kitchen as he prepared his own dinner.

He sensed Anakin's presence just a second before arms wrapped around his middle, drawing him back against a warm, solid body.

Obi-Wan stilled, eyes going wide. “Anakin?” he asked, his voice just a bit breathy. He blushed furiously, horrified— and was that— there was something pressing into his back—

“I have waited so long for you,” Anakin murmured. “I'm past consenting age, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan gulped. “I— you didn't speak of it again.”

“I kept waiting to see if you loved me the way I love you.”

Obi-Wan's heart lunged into his throat. By all that was holy—

“But I couldn't stand it any longer. I had to find out if you wanted me.” Anakin pressed a kiss behind Obi-Wan's ear, and the older Jedi nearly jumped.

It felt  _ good  _ and he wanted so much  _ more,  _ he was so close to breaking— “Anakin, we should— I shouldn't— when I said that, long ago, I was just trying to escape an awkward situation—”

“What you  _ really  _ meant was never say it again,” Anakin murmured, his lips brushing against Obi-Wan's neck.

Obi-Wan went as still as he could, trying to choke down the whimper that wanted to escape his throat. “While you're still under my authority, it's not healthy, Anakin, it can't be— and I'm far too old for you—”

“Not so very old,” Anakin countered, pressing bared teeth to Obi-Wan's neck, but not biting.

Obi-Wan bolted out of his grip, and placed his back to the wall, staring up at him with wide, terrified eyes. “Anakin,  _ please— _ ”

“Please what?” Anakin asked, moving closer, stalking him, cornering him, pressing him against the wall and refusing to drop his gaze. “Tell me one thing, and I'll never speak of it again.”

Panic lunged into Obi-Wan's throat. No, no, no— he  _ wanted  _ it, he just wanted it done  _ right,  _ he wanted Anakin to be treasured the way he  _ should  _ be, and right now it wasn't— the balance wasn't right, Anakin didn't have the agency, the freedom, the power he should have in this equation—

“Tell me you don't love me, and I will walk away and never do this again.” Anakin leaned in and kissed him.

Obi-Wan didn't move beneath him, and as Anakin pulled away, finding his eyes again, the older Jedi wondered if this was what it felt like to die of a heart attack.

“I—” Obi-Wan stuttered.

Fear and hurt filled those eyes, so beautiful, so close to his own—

“I  _ do  _ love you.” Had he  _ said  _ it? He'd  _ said  _ it. Qui-Gon, help him, Force forgive him, he said it—

_ How pathetic do I sound? _

But Anakin was beaming like he'd been given the world, and that expression, and the thumb on his cheek swept all of his own fear and doubt away.

“Show me,” Anakin whispered. And then he was kissing him, and Obi-Wan was kissing back, and he  _ shouldn't,  _ but he  _ was,  _ and it felt so  _ right— _

_ No.  _ He pushed back one last time against Anakin. “We should wait,” he choked. “You'll be knighted soon. Just a little longer—”

But Anakin whimpered, pain filled the Force, and Obi-Wan broke to it.

He returned Anakin's desperate kisses, amazed at how whole they made him feel, at how much he  _ needed  _ them, needed Anakin—

He gave himself completely to the other man that night. Heart, mind, body, soul, it didn't matter, they belonged to Anakin now.

And Obi-Wan had never felt so loved and special in his life before.

 

* * *

 

He awoke to find himself alone. He fought the pang of disappointment, but he felt no fear.

He knew the man who had claimed him the night before.

Anakin always knew what he wanted, and fought to get it, and never gave it up once he had it in his possession.

Hearing something crackling on the stove, Obi-Wan threw on a robe and padded into the kitchen.

He expected to find Anakin making breakfast.

He found breakfast, and caught it just in time to keep it from burning.

Just a bit concerned now, he thought he sensed Anakin nearby. Gathering the robe tight around him, Obi-Wan poked his head into the hallway outside their door. He could hear murmuring around the corner.

He'd almost reached it when he heard Ferus' mocking voice. “No one's going to  _ believe  _ that claim.”

“I have proof.” Anakin's voice.

And then—

And then Obi-Wan could hear his own voice, breathlessly begging Anakin to take him, to touch him, helplessly pleading that he loved him, crying out—

Obi-Wan simply tried to breathe as he realized what was happening around the corner.

_ You... you recorded us. _

“Kaaark,” a third voice breathed. “ _ Anakin _ , I can't believe you actually  _ did  _ your  _ master! _ It's been, like,  _ three years! _ ”

“Told you I could do it,” was Anakin's smug retort. “Now Ferus, you  _ claimed  _ three years ago. Have any proof?”

“What?  _ Of course not.  _ I have a little more  _ class  _ than to  _ secretly— _ ”

Several voices broke in to mock him.

Obi-Wan covered his open mouth with his hand, the other fist pressing to his gut in horror. It was a nightmare. Had to be.

“This can all be settled quite easily if Ferus will simply seduce  _ his  _ master tonight,” Anakin announced, clearly pleased with himself. “Either he succeeds, or he was lying all along... or his master doesn't care for a repeat.”

Gasps and giggles ensued.

“Frip you, Skywalker,” Ferus muttered.

Anakin laughed, low and triumphant. “It seems I'm the  _ only  _ one getting any action in. But if you're that desperate, maybe I can fit you into my schedule. Though, on second thought,  _ no. _ ”

“You going to tap him again?” someone asked.

“It wasn't bad,” Anakin evaluated. “Not the best— though of course I couldn't let  _ him  _ know that or he wouldn't be wrapped around my little finger. He'll do whatever I want him to. Should be an easy upkeep. I'm making him breakfast. I'm telling you, at this rate, I'll be a knight before you can blink.”

“That's not your little finger he's wrapped around,” a voice chuckled. “Damn. Here I was always glad I  _ didn't  _ get Kenobi because of how strict he is, but now I'm starting to realize the deal's not all sour.”

“You don't know the half of it,” Obi-Wan's Padawan agreed. “Here. We'll skip forward— look at his face—”

Gasping in a silent sob, Obi-Wan turned and fled back into their rooms, closing the door quietly behind him, switching on the stove again so Anakin wouldn't realize he'd touched it, and slipped back into bed, curling towards the wall, drawing the blanket up over his shoulder.

Three years.

Anakin had hunted him for three years, long after his peers had forgotten about the stupid competition—

_ But Anakin Skywalker gets what Anakin Skywalker wants. _

Obi-Wan hadn't realized he was lonely until last night, when the void of his soul had been filled.

Now...

Now the agony of emptiness was  _ worse,  _ because he knew what it was to find belonging...

Only to be thrown aside.

_ Not even that. He  _ never  _ loved me. He's manipulated me all along. _

The scale of the betrayal was somehow too great to grasp, and all he could do was tremble, the tears slipping silently from his eyes to soak into the pillow.

The stench of something burned floated in from the stove— or was it his heart?

The door slid open, and Anakin yelped a colorful curse.

Clattering assailed Obi-Wan's ears, and after running water, stomping feet, and a few more muttered curses, Anakin finally moved to the doorway, his form cutting into the light streaming in through the bedroom door, his silhouette a shadow swallowing Obi-Wan whole.

“Hey. Sorry. Bet that woke you up,” he offered with a sheepish smile in his voice. “Was trying to make you breakfast, but I'm not as good with these things as you are.”

_ It wouldn't have burned if you'd been in the same room with it. The same damn  _ house  _ with it. _

Obi-Wan couldn't find the words to answer him, but he felt the gentle probe at his shields, Anakin discovering they were spectacularly tight and closed-off—

And then the bed creaked as Anakin sat beside him. “What is it?” Anakin murmured, sounding so worried, so  _ caring _ , “what's wrong?”

A sniff escaped Obi-Wan, and he cursed himself for it.

“Whoa. Hey,” Anakin crooned, rubbing his shoulder gently. “Talk to me. What's bothering you?”

“Do you love me?” Obi-Wan asked.

He needed to hear it from Anakin's own lips. To his  _ face. _

He rolled over, and Anakin's eyes widened at how miserable he looked.

Anakin reached out, placed a tender hand against his cheek, looked him deep in the eye, and murmured, “I love you, Obi-Wan Kenobi.”

He could see it now, how Anakin relied on his charm, on his eyes, on his smile, on his reaching out to fill a need in Obi-Wan's life he hadn't realized he  _ had— _

A snarl of hurt pulled at Obi-Wan's lip and the older Jedi jerked away from Anakin's caress, landing on his feet and storming out the room.

“Obi-Wan!” Anakin cried, following him. “What's wrong! Tell me, please?”

And then the younger man had the gall to tremble his lip, his eyes filling with the same fearful moisture that Obi-Wan had fallen for before, had  _ believed in _ .

“You're good,” Obi-Wan choked, shoving clothing into a bag. “You're  _ very  _ good.” He grabbed the holo of Qui-Gon from the shelf, his riverstone from the little stand.

Anakin followed him, apparent lostness flooding the Force around him. “Please, Obi-Wan. I don't understand.”

Obi-Wan dropped his lightsaber in the bag, slung it over his shoulder, and clutched the tiny pot holding the small cactus Qui-Gon had nurtured for so long to his chest.

He held out his other hand and said, as firmly and as composedly as he could manage, “Give it to me.”

“What?” But the mask was beginning to fall away. There was something lurking in those eyes, and it made Obi-Wan shiver.

“The sex holo of last night.  _ Give it to me. _ ”

Anakin hesitated.

“ _ Give it to me,  _ or I  _ swear  _ I will  _ end  _ your career.”

Something vicious took over Anakin's face, and he slapped the small disk into Obi-Wan's hand with enough force that it physically hurt. Obi-Wan refused to flinch as he fumbled it into the robe's pocket. “Are there any copies?”

“Force, Obi-Wan, it's not like I had  _ time, _ ” Anakin grumbled.

“Well?” Obi-Wan near-yelled at him. “ _ Are there? _ ”

“No!”

Obi-Wan backed for the door, unwilling to turn his back to the man who glared so malevolently at him.

And then the anger melted from Anakin's face and he laughed.

Obi-Wan cringed at the sound. It wasn't the beautiful sound of bells that he remembered. There was something cruel, satisfied there.

“You brought this on yourself,” Anakin mocked. “Someone my age after someone like you? Of  _ course  _ they want something.”

_ I have been a fool. _

It was easy enough to say to himself, but Obi-Wan couldn't quite find the place where he'd gone wrong. The place where he should have  _ known. _

“So, what? You going to deny me my knighthood in revenge? Because if you do that, you're stuck with me for as long as you inflict that 'punishment.'”

Obi-Wan's stomach turned over, the desperate urge to vomit seizing him.

Because after all of this, Anakin had been right.

Obi-Wan wouldn't have pushed him through to knighthood before he was ready for  _ love _ , he'd been wrong about  _ that... _

But to escape him....

He might.

_ It would be the fastest way to escape. To be free of him. To never have to see him again. _

But the thought of Anakin getting everything he'd wanted out of this after all? A reputation, the respect of his peers, cheep sex,  _ and  _ that expedited knighting?

It was a headache. It was nausea. It was a strange throbbing in his heart, and a hollowing echo through everything he  _ thought  _ he knew.

As Obi-Wan escaped out the door, Anakin called after him, tone apparently genuine, “Thank you for last night.”

Obi-Wan had never felt more filthy and defiled in his life. A thousand showers would never be able to rid him of this feeling of being absolutely trampled.

It wasn't his body that needed cleansing.

If he  _ ever  _ entered a sexual relationship again, it would be on  _ his  _ terms.

Never again would someone use his soul this way.  _ Ever. _

He'd  _ allowed  _ this to happen. He'd trusted in Anakin, he'd lowered his guard, allowed this to mean more than just a quick frip—

And he'd walked away with  _ nothing. _

Hell. If he was going to be Anakin's cheep whore, at least he should have been  _ paid.  _ The thought was bitter to the taste, and somehow grimly amusing all the same.

_ And no, Anakin. I'm not going to knight you tomorrow. You're going to have to pass your Trials same as anyone else, and we both know you won't make it. _

_You don't have the soul of a Jedi._

But that knowledge wasn't going to keep him warm that night.

No. That night he spent hours tossing on a bed not his own,  _ trying  _ to sleep—

And then he fled from the Temple, seeking a seedier district where he wouldn't be noticed. Where people minded their own business, and didn't give a kark about what the surface found so damn important.

A whore called out to him, offering her body.

Obi-Wan looked into her eyes, and saw confidence. Found a woman who  _ did not care about him _ whatsoever.

Found a woman who, if  _ anyone  _ was laughing at the hopeless being who fell in love, it wouldn't be  _ her  _ who made such an idiotic mistake...

And though he didn't take her offer, he did smile.

He returned back to the cold bed in the Temple and lay awake for another hour thinking about her.

The woman who was never alone in the night...

But who  _ did not care. _

 


End file.
